


Overflowing Tears

by Hitsugi_Zirkus



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday, DRAMAtical Lesbians, F/F, Fluff, Romance, fem!Mizuki, fem!Noiz, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 23:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3506747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/Hitsugi_Zirkus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noiz wouldn't mind if those were the only tears Mizuki ever cried.</p><p>Belated birthday gift for most precious Mizooks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overflowing Tears

**Author's Note:**

> I would feel so horrible if I didn't write anything for Mizuki's birthday (even though it was yesterday, gomen orz). He just means a lot to me, and deserves all nice things for the rest of his life. 
> 
> Anon on tumblr suggested Mizunoiz with Noiz giving Mizuki a present. Shibaface suggested the yuris. I combined these because I love them both and have been meaning to write Mizunoiz and more yuris anyway. Win/win, ye.

By the time 3 a.m. settled in, Noiz was getting past anxious and more toward irritated resignation. For the past five or so hours, Mizuki’s tiny apartment had managed to cram in members of _two_ Rib teams on top of others like Aoba, Ren, and Clear. The space had gotten very hot and rowdy in no time, supplied generously of course through every other guest bringing in alcohol. Noiz didn’t gripe about it though; they were after all here to celebrate Mizuki’s birthday.

To be sure, Noiz did know her girlfriend was well-connected, and despite everything Dry Juice had gone through, quite a few of her relationships remained more-or-less intact - if the smile on her face all night indicated anything. Noiz kept focus on that smile, especially because crowds annoyed her and reminded her how her social skills left much to be desired. The contrast between the blank-faced Noiz sitting at the smallest possible corner of the sofa, interacting with no one, and the ever-cordial Mizuki a part of the laughter and chatter, standing right at center, was one that was not lost on Noiz.

Sometimes she wondered what Mizuki saw in her. Mizuki noticed her in the first place because Mizuki noticed everyone. And that wasn’t a bad feeling.

Being uncomfortable most of the night was though. But she did get approached sometimes, and she did instigate some remarks or flick some of the cake in Koujaku’s general direction when she and Aoba and Ren were sitting together. And at one point Mizuki had joined her to talk. (She did again too, albeit to press alcohol-flavored kisses to Noiz’s lips and neck.)

And then by three in the morning, all the guests were either gone or passed out over Mizuki’s living room, piled on top of each other and the spare blankets and pillows that Mizuki was tossing on them with a wide smile, like she was about to laugh at a joke.

The resulting peace and silence that came after a night of liveliness gave Noiz the impression that she and Mizuki were like two last actors on a stage. Which was a funny comparison given she’d been dragged by her parents to a theater only once, but still sometimes she could remember the bright spotlights shining on the stage, illuminating the actors’ eyes.

Illuminating Mizuki’s eyes.

Noiz was already in the bedroom when Mizuki came in after making sure the others were comfortable. She closed the door behind her, swaying over to the bed and collapsing on it with a content sigh.

“Finally coming down?” Noiz looked at her with a small smirk.

Mizuki giggled, face-down in the sheets. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to go to sleep,” Noiz teased.

Making a small whining sound that was too cute to Noiz, Mizuki kicked her leg out playfully against Noiz’s. Noiz returned the kick, laughing low in her throat. She watched Mizuki as she made her way under the blankets to toss her arm around Noiz’s hip and cuddle against her like her stoat curled up on a pillow on the floor. It was an endearing gesture, one that softened Noiz’s heart as she ran her fingers through Mizuki’s hair.

She couldn’t feel the wine-red strands, whether they were soft or coarse or tangled. Maybe that it was thick, judging by how they thread together, falling over Mizuki’s shoulders and cheeks and neck in layered curls. Aoba said that Mizuki usually kept her hair really short, because too many of the more inexperienced male Ribsters weren’t too fond of a female being in a team, and went for dirty tricks like hair-pulling. This was, of course, before they realized who they were dealing with.

Noiz suspected it was also Mizuki’s preference as well though, considering Koujaku kept her hair long. But ever since Mizuki came out of the hospital, her hair just kept growing longer, the rugged ends curling into her collarbone, tickling just beneath the criss-cross of bandages around her neck. Noiz’s eyelids lowered at the sight of them.

Despite being discharged and having a psychological follow-up for about a week or so, Mizuki still sometimes forgot things. Not little things like where she put her keys or getting up in the mornings (although those did happen). No, sometimes Mizuki would just forget where she was. When she was. _Who_ she was. And it always happened at night, and even though when Mizuki called Noiz after a nightmare, Noiz didn’t need any telling of why Mizuki could be crying or curled up in her bathroom with the light on.

If it was one thing Mizuki ever taught her, it was the power of some empathy. Noiz couldn’t connect with anyone physically, and knew she had no hope of trying to understand someone emotionally. Sometimes in the numbness Mizuki had an hour after waking up from the nightmares, it seemed she was like that too. Smiling Mizuki, that was everyone’s friend. But even with Noiz’s drawbacks, if it was one thing she understood, it was nightmares of the past. Of darkness. Being locked away - whereas Noiz had been in a room, Mizuki was still inside deep inside herself.

In the tumble of uncut hair and daily change of bandages that medically didn’t need to be there anymore, Noiz had those darkened flashbacks of Mizuki’s pain. Noiz sometimes wondered if that intense sadness and fear was with Mizuki even before Morphine. Maybe that was why Dry Juice members had a teardrop tattooed on their bodies.

Noiz got a little scared. Did Mizuki ever stop crying?

Mizuki was letting out quiet breaths and getting heavier on Noiz’s lap. She shook her shoulder. “Hey, I didn’t mean that. Don’t sleep yet. I still have something to give you, you know.”

“Hnn?” Mizuki frowned, then opened her eyes up at Noiz.

She patted her shoulder to get her up so that Noiz could roll off the bed and head for Mizuki’s closet. By the time she retrieved a long, bright red box from the top shelf, Mizuki was sitting up with a surprised expression.

She raised a brow. “You hid a present in my own closet?”

Noiz shrugged. “You didn’t find it.”

“That’s true,” laughed Mizuki. She made space for Noiz on the bed, looking at the box with interest. “You know it’s not my birthday anymore, right?”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. Noiz had planned to give her present after the party - completely forgetting what partying meant when Dry Juice and Benishigure got together. Once midnight had come and gone, Noiz sort of cursed herself for not handing the gift over before anyone had arrived. She didn’t want to risk Mizuki not liking it though and bumming her out before her birthday party even began.

Back to Mizuki’s teasing comment… “That didn’t stop any of you from celebrating a few hours shy of dawn.” Noiz took Mizuki’s hand and placed the box neatly on her open palm. “Just open it.”

“Fancy box. You know gifts aren’t mandatory once you get to my age.”

Noiz narrowed her eyes a bit in her own version of a pout. “Do you hate that I’m giving you something that much?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Mizuki laughed and tousled Noiz’s uneven, tangled hair. “I didn’t mean it like that.” She looked down at the box, biting her lip to hide her smile. Holding the present to her ear, she shook it a little, making Noiz groan with impatience.

Mizuki cut the suspense finally, opening the lid carefully and setting it to the side. With how gingerly her fingers moved in setting out each side of the tissue paper like making a spring flower bloom, it was almost like Mizuki had sobered up in a second. If she hadn’t already, the sight of the silver chain resting inside the box surely did.

Her face froze. Not in shock. It was like muting the air and pausing time just long enough for Noiz to take in the awed parting of Mizuki’s lips, to catch again the twinkling spotlight in her eyes before Mizuki took a breath again, the bittersweet scent of alcohol breezing over near Noiz.

“You can pick it up.”

Tan fingers with chipped black paint on the nails lifted the chain out of the box, the pendant swinging back and forth like a pendulum, nearly bumping into Mizuki’s nose. It was a very clear jade, the shape simple and three-dimensional, of what was a teardrop.

Mizuki’s other hand cradled the drop pendant, her awed expression slowly melting into a touched smile. “It looks almost like our mark.”

“Do you like it?” Noiz tilted her head.

“Well - yes! You got this just for me, and it’s so beautiful. Noiz...”

Noiz chewed on her bottom lip, tugging on a snakebite. She wasn’t sure if that was enough to hide her relieved smile. “I mean, I know it’s not your style, but…” The sheets rustled as she came closer, enough that their knees touched. Noiz didn’t look at Mizuki when she said, “That symbol means a lot to you, right? I was never fond of it - of tears, I mean. Until I met you, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to cry again.”

Beside her, Mizuki was silent. Although still holding the necklace, her paused posture said she was listening intently to everything Noiz said. She gave her full attention. Mizuki always listened. That was how the “bad words” got into her mind so easily. But it was also why Noiz wanted her words to count and be right.

“You told me though that tears aren’t always a bad thing, though. You said that it showed that the sadness or anger was trying to come out, so that we can try being happy again. I want to be happy now - and I want you to be happy too. So if tears mean that much to you, then of course I don’t mind it if you do cry. I just,” Noiz’s heart was pounding, her words getting stilted and awkward and maybe even really really wrong, “I just want you to be happy.”

Mizuki inhaled, but otherwise didn’t say anything right away.

Noiz drew her knee back, hugging her leg. “Happy birthday,” she added lamely, fingernail picking the sheets.

But in another second, Mizuki was close again. There was a silvery rattle that made Noiz look up, watching as Mizuki reached under her hair, bringing the necklace up past her breasts to the pendant resting comfortably a little below her collar when she put it on. She smiled, picking the teardrop up and looking down at it. Her shoulders jerked, and she was sniffling. Noiz was close to telling Mizuki to take it off if she didn’t like it, but then her back was against the headboard, Mizuki’s chin resting on her shoulder, her arms around her.

“Thank you, Noiz. Thank you so much. I love it. It’s wonderful, it’s perfect.” She laughed, but it was shaky. She was crying, wetting Noiz’s shirt and hair. “Thank you, Noiz. I love you.”

“Th-then why are you crying?”

Mizuki laughed again, but pulled back. Strands of her hair stuck to her wet cheeks, but her smile was as genuine and beautiful and open as always. “Noiz,” she said, as if she knew something. “I’m not _sad_. I’m not angry either. These are because I’m _happy_. I’m really, really happy.”

“Happy… What does it mean if you cry when you’re happy though?” Usually by this time, Noiz would be trying to wipe away the tears. Instead, she was trying to put together another puzzle piece of emotions people experienced.

Mizuki looked around, as if trying to look for the answer, her hands gesturing uselessly. Finally, she shook her head. “It just means I was too happy to hold it inside me. You just made my heart overflow with it. I promise it’s a good feeling.”

“You won’t feel sad afterwards?”

“No. I mean, of course I’ll be sad again someday. You can’t stop that. But right now,” she took Noiz’s hands, “I’m _happy_.”

Slowly, Noiz thought she understood. She nodded, squeezing back Mizuki’s hands before leaning in to kiss her. She tasted of her salty tears, of the alcohol, of the sweet cake. Noiz’s sense of taste was the only thing not dulled by touch, and so for many a not-so-odd reason, she felt she understood a lot better after tasting Mizuki.

Right now she was crying tears of happiness. Noiz wouldn’t mind if those were the only tears Mizuki ever cried. She knew it was impossible, but at least on the day celebrating her birth, it’d be nice if Mizuki always overflowed with golden feelings like this.

Smiling into the kiss, Noiz thought she felt it too, both of their tears mixing between their lips.

 

**Author's Note:**

> They have sexy times afterward. Even though Mizuki says people are sleeping in the living room. Noiz never cares about those things though. Her hands are already under Mizuki's shirt. Panties are gone. Cue Mizuki burying her face in her pillow to hold back her moans. Fuck, I should write lesbian Mizunoiz sexy times. Crap. crAP I HAVE FALLEN SO FAR.
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIZUKI.


End file.
